


Obsession

by ladydragon76



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Rating: NC-17 - Freeform, character: blurr, character: swerve, genre: dark, genre: drama, smut: sticky, verse: idw, warning: canon- what canon?, warning: non-con, warning: triggery content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> All Blurr wanted was to tour the ship and enjoy the view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obsession

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Blurr, Swerve  
>  **Warnings:** Non-con, Triggery Content  
>  **Notes:** Because I have feelings about the whole ‘Poor Swerve, Blurr’s mean’ thing. And Masq enabled me. Ebonykain also put it perfectly in saying Swerve is the hidden, everyday danger. I’m using all that was popped around in that convo on Tumblr for this and playing with the darker twists. If you’re sensitive to victim blaming, you might want to skip this.

Blurr groaned, shifting against the warmth pressed to his side. Something heated and soft touched his lower lip and traced along it.

Wait. He didn’t invite anyone to his berth last night.

Honed battle reflexes shoved _hard_ , and a yelp sounded. Blurr cursed, wiping the wetness from his mouth, and glaring toward whatever he’d pushed away, then cursed again. “The frag were you doing?!” And _ow_! His fragging head.

“Uh… Hi.”

It was the annoying, creepy bartender from the other night. The frag had happened?

Blurr cast the mech a glare, rubbing the dent in his helm, then pushed himself to his feet. He wobbled, dizzy, at first, but then his memories returned as his processors cleared a little. That was right. He’d wanted to see the observation deck, but made a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in a storage room. He’d heard something behind him, but then the whole ship had rocked and Blurr had flown forward into a shelving unit. What had hit him?

Time to leave. He wasn’t hanging out with the stalker fan. Which, Pits, that only added to the creepiness. The mech had been _following_ him? Ugh.

Blurr strode to the door, trying not to show how badly his gyros were spinning. Damnit, he’d really nailed his helm, hadn’t he? He pressed the keypad, but the door did nothing but whine.

“So uh… I think we’re stuck in here.”

Blurr sighed, but instead of giving up, opened his comms to Jazz. He winced, helm jerking to the side as nothing but static blared at him. Ok. So much for that. He’d just have to hack the door.

“You know, I don’t think that’ll work,” the mech said. “I mean, just look at the door. Something slammed into it hard enough on the other side to kinda dent it inward.”

Blurr did look and cursed once again, a low, vile word he’d heard Drift use when he was really slagged off. “Your comms work?” he asked, turning to face the mech. Serve? No. Swerve? Yeah, Swerve. He could remember Crosscut saying it.

“My…” The visor dimmed, mouth hanging open. “Uh. Nope. No, sorry, not getting anything but static.”

Blurr let his temper take him for a moment and slapped the wall, then crossed his arms. Damn. He glared hard at the door. He was going to be stuck with the mech, who for some reason, thought he needed to _lick_ Blurr’s lips to wake him.

He huffed, and moved away from the door, picking a clear spot on the floor to sit. He reached out, prodding the spill of hundreds of datapads. “What are all these for?” He lifted one, aiming to thumb it on, but it was snatched out of his hands. “Hey!”

“Sorry! I, uh… I think these are ship logs though. We shouldn’t be reading them. I mean I don’t have the clearance, so you can’t possi-”

Blurr snatched it back. “I was a fragging Wrecker. What position I recharged in on the Xantium is more classified than whatever’s on this.”

“Geez, sorry!” Swerve held up his hands in surrender. “Just don’t want you to in get in trouble. Primus, you’re cranky today. You were a lot nicer the other two times we’ve talked.”

Blurr shut his optics, and cycled his vents. “Sorry,” he said, voice softer. “Helm really hurts.” He did need to be nicer. This mech had a bar too, and in bars, mechs gossiped. If Blurr did nothing but snap and snarl at Swerve, it was bound to get around and could cost him business. Something he couldn’t afford, not with a _third_ rebuild of Maccadam’s to do.

“Hey, it’s ok.” Swerve smiled brightly. “That was really sudden. Wonder what happened.”

Suspicion rose, but Blurr pushed it aside. The whole ship had tossed. Even if Swerve had been sneaking around after him, he hadn’t caused whatever had happened, and it wasn’t like he had no experience in dealing with overzealous fans. It’d been a while, but he’d managed.

“Two?” Blurr asked suddenly, then could have kicked himself. He wasn’t going to remember this mech, asking after the other time they had met was just begging for trouble.

“What? Oh! Yeah, we met before the war.” Swerve’s smile faltered a little. “Did you change your comm frequency since then? Blaster tried to reach you for me, but the code wasn’t working.”

Blurr tried to remember, but it made his helm ache more. Pits, he’d given fake comm codes to a _lot_ of fans. Some just wouldn’t let him go until he had. He couldn’t place Swerve, but it didn’t matter. “I few times probably. It was hacked at least three times my first season. Crazy fans that just, you know, forgot I was a real person beyond the celebrity status, that I needed recharge too, and had practice and maintenance appointments.” He shrugged, then stood, gathering up some datapads.

“Oh. Well, that sucks. Can I have the new one?”

Blurr tensed, buying himself time by bending to grab another few datapads. “I don’t have comms right now. Remember? Who knows if the receiver can be saved?”

“That’s a good point. What are you doing?”

“I’m bored. Might as well pick up this mess.”

“I could probably think up something for us to do.”

Blurr ignored the comment, and began putting the files back on the shelves, and hoped he was missed soon enough for someone to find them. Of course they would be looking in the wrong direction, wouldn’t they? “How far from the observation deck am I?”

“Is that where you were trying to go?” Swerve asked, then laughed. “You’re way off. The lift to it is way on the other end of the ship. We’re near the officers’ deck here.” He waved that three-fingered hand of his at the mess. “Hence all this.”

“Oh.” Blurr pushed a shelving unit back against the wall, wincing at the shriek of metal. He debated asking, but it was going to drive him nuts if he didn’t. “So, what were you doing over here?”

“Me? Oh, uh… I saw you come in here, followed because you kinda looked lost, then the thing happened. Probably a good thing I was drawn to you. Who knows what’s out there in the hall. I could be crushed and dead.” Swerve gave Blurr a wide, bright smile. “You might’ve saved my life.”

“By getting lost?” Blurr snorted, and went back to cleaning up.

“Guess I owe you one.”

Blurr flinched away, startled that Swerve was suddenly _right there_ next to him. The tone made him twitch too. That was the tone of a mech that _thought_ he sounded seductive. “I don’t think it counts when it’s not on purpose.”

“Sure it does.” Swerve reached out, hand fragging well _caressing_ the white skirting panel at Blurr’s hip. “Mech should be grateful, right?”

That felt like a trap. Blurr stepped away again, striding across the room to gather up more datapads. “No. Really. I’m done with the war. The idea of saving lives makes me uncomfortable. Just a normal mech now.”

“Hah! No way! You’ll never be _just_ a normal mech. You’re _The Blurr_!”

“I _was_ The Blurr,” Blurr insisted. “Now I’m just Blurr the bar owner. I did my time. I tried to make a difference, now I want peace. A life. I want to have fun, and provide mechs a nice place to have some fun themselves.”

“Don’t be so down on yourself. You’re great!” Swerve crouched beside Blurr, a little too close for his comfort, and started picking up too.

Blurr hurried back to the shelves, feeling his plating crawl. He was keeping his field in tight, but Swerve wasn’t, and that curl of lust had been unmistakable. Not that Blurr was any stranger to lust, or even having to deflect the desires of those he didn’t want in return, but there was something different now. His self-professed little stalker wasn’t anyone he couldn’t slag if he really needed to, but then what? The war was over, and Blurr wasn’t an Autobot while Swerve very clearly was. Those that remained Autobots weren’t always as polite as they used to be. If Blurr pushed back, what would happen?

“You ok?” Swerve asked, standing _right_ next to Blurr again. “Optics are a little bright and I can hear your vents.” He smirked a little, visor glinting.

“I don’t really like enclosed spaces much,” Blurr said. “Helps to move and do something.”

“Heh. If we clear enough floor space, I have something we could do.” That was twice, and this time the tone was firmer, more… insistent.

Blurr’s hand froze, the datapad only halfway to the shelf. He looked down at the mech, and had to forcibly stop the shudder of disgust. “No thanks. This will do, and they’ll find us soon enough.” Primus, please.

“No thanks? You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“It-doesn’t-matter.” Blurr shoved the datapads up onto the shelf, then went to pick up more. His control over his vocalizer was slipping. Frag, he really did need to calm down. He was a Wrecker in the past even if that was over now. He could handle himself against one small, inappropriate creep of a mech.

For a moment Blurr focused on his respiration. There. That was better. He wasn’t weak, there was no reason to get all upset over some glitch being a bit pushy. He’d been in worse situations. Pits, _most_ of his tension probably really was from being trapped. Blurr liked to have an escape route available, and right now he didn’t.

Turning, Blurr’s calm was shattered as he nearly stepped on Swerve. “Primus!”

“Whoa there.” Swerve laughed, hands catching Blurr’s waist. “Geez, I thought you dropped into recharge just standing there.”

Fingers moved in short strokes over the pipes at Blurr’s side, and he jerked back out of reach hard enough to slam his own back against the wall. Pain throbbed through his helm, making him grit his teeth. He took a breath, then said as calmly as he could, “Touching me right now isn’t helping, but thank you for trying.” There. Bam. Plain as day. Don’t touch me. If he had to play up the claustrophobia, then he would. Whatever kept the mech’s hands _off_ of him.

Blurr edged around Swerve, making a very obvious point of not coming within reach, then went back to stocking the shelves. If he finished this before they were found, he’d just go ahead and start trying to figure out a way to organize them.

Blurr took three steps toward another pile of datapads, and the world went very suddenly black.

~ | ~

Blurr swam up through the thick sludge of his mind, the pain in his head making him groan. He heard an echo of the sound, and then a booming, pounding noise and… something that sounded an awful lot like panting vents.

His processors suddenly caught up, and Blurr snapped awake. He curled up and shoved, gasping as the spike was yanked from his valve.

“Hey!” Swerve yelped.

Blurr drew up his legs, and _kicked_ with all his strength. Swerve flew across the room, crying out again as he slammed into the wall.

“The frag, Blurr?! I was almost done! They’ll be through any minute, and then goodbye privacy.”

Swerve was insane, Blurr thought, and clutched his helm. His gyros spun as he dragged himself up the wall, and he carefully edged toward the door, where the banging was coming from. He kept his optics on Swerve, hissing in blatant threat. Metal tore with a shrill sound and a gap appeared beside the door. Blurr reached it, and shoved his way free just as the ragged edge was peeled back more.

“Whoa there!”

Blurr didn’t know the mech, but that didn’t matter. He pushed past him, optics on Ultra Magnus. “Arrest him!”

“Blurr?” Ultra Magnus asked, catching him by his shoulders.

Blurr jerked back, pointing toward the gap that Swerve was just crawling through. “Arrest him. He raped me.”

“What?!” Swerve gasped.

“Who? _Swerve_?” Rodimus asked. “You’re kidding me.”

Blurr honed in on the startled shout from Swerve, glaring furiously at him. “I was unconscious. I just woke up with him on me. _In_ me!”

Swerve shook his helm. “He’s got a helm wound. Look at that dent.”

“Are you saying that Blurr made up this claim about interfacing?” Ultra Magnus asked.

“No, we were ‘facing,” Swerve replied, “then he suddenly pushed me away and started freaking out.”

Blurr boggled at the mech. “Liar!” he shouted in outrage. He turned to Ultra Magnus. “I didn’t consent! I wasn’t even awake!”

“What’s it matter?” Rodimus asked. “You ‘face everyone.”

Stunned cold, Blurr shook his helm. “No, I really don’t, and go rust if you think having fun with a mech of my own choosing is at all the same as being violated when you’re knocked out from a head wound!” Blurr jabbed a finger at Swerve, ignoring the murmuring of the mechs around them, and gave Ultra Magnus a pleading look. “He _raped_ me. I want him arrested. I want to press charges. _Now_.

“Blurr…”

“Stay away from me!” Blurr winced as his voice arched into a higher octave and his processors spun when he flinched away from the reaching hands.

Ultra Magnus’ hands came up in a placating gesture. “Blurr, you are wounded-”

“I know damn well I didn’t say yes though!”

“You _are_ wounded. So let’s go see Ratchet. He can fix you up, and after you’ve had a few minutes to calm down, we can discuss whether or not there needs to be a report filed.”

Blurr shook his helm, wobbling and having to catch himself against the wall. He finally took in all the damage in the corridor. Half of it was collapsed, and large beams had been dragged from against the storage room door. He tried to push away the nauseating dizziness. “I don’t need to think about it. I’m pressing charges.”

“Very well, but Ratchet first before you lose consciousness again,” Ultra Magnus replied. He gestured for Blurr to follow him, then set off down the hall.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Blurr asked, incredulous.

“What would that be?”

Blurr pointed at Swerve.

“After the report if it’s merited.”

Blurr was at a complete loss, especially as Ultra Magnus moved off down the corridor. Hand on the wall to help keep him on his feet, Blurr glared over his shoulder at Swerve. His optics narrowed even more as one of the mechs patted Swerve’s shoulder, the others surrounding him with friendly gestures and open body language.

Fine. Whatever. So long as the slagger wasn’t following him. Shuddering, head pounding, Blurr trailed after Ultra Magnus.

“Blurr!” Swerve called. “Wait, Blurr!”

Both Ultra Magnus and Blurr stopped and turned back to look. Swerve had taken a few steps in their direction, but was still well down the hall.

“Hey, don’t forget. Once Ratchet has your comms fixed, come give me the new frequency code.”

Blurr had never regretted putting down his blaster more.

**Author's Note:**

> **([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) )**


End file.
